


Happy Water Heater Day

by OldDVS



Category: The Sentinel (TV)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 13:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19746268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldDVS/pseuds/OldDVS
Summary: So what does it mean when a water heater shows up unexpectedly at the loft?  Sandburg bought it.  A sentinel could overthink this sort of thing.





	Happy Water Heater Day

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been sitting on the hard drive somewhere around fifteen years, I suspect. No idea if I got it posted anywhere before this.

Happy Water Heater Day  
Old DVS

Jim Ellison threw himself down on his couch. He was going to get up and start dinner. Soon. Really. 

His leg ached and so did his head. Long day. 

Sandburgless day.

Yeah. Thanks to the required refresher course in First Aid. Sandburg needed it, he didn’t, so Ellison got to be the general dogsbody for Major Crimes all day. Simon had him following up some really unlikely leads on the carjackings and it had been a huge waste of time. Both men had known it would be, but the leads had come from the mayor’s office and had to be investigated to reduce the flow of whine from that direction. 

At least he had been busy running around today. Not at his desk. Today was February 14th. Valentine’s Day. Not his favorite holiday, even when he had a girlfriend or wife and a reason to take note of it. Never had liked watching the flowers and candy arrive for everyone else. Mostly for the women, who got to play some game which involved showing the other ladies what a thoughtful or rich mate they’d attracted. If you had a girlfriend and didn’t play your part you were in deep shit.

The truth of it was, it had never been what you’d call a successful holiday for him. It involved guessing what the lady in his life wanted, and also taking into consideration how long he had been with her and what the stage of the relationship was. Valentine’s Day was full of traps and pitfalls. Flowers were good, and candy, but anything else....

It turns out you didn’t do jewelry unless you wanted the woman to think you were serious and maybe thinking about wedding bells. Boy, had that year been a disaster. And you didn’t do sexy lingerie unless you were sure the lady was on the same wave length. Turned out a lace teddy which you *knew* the lady had admired in the store could be interpreted as sexual pressure. And you didn’t do a BIG box of candy if the woman was on a diet, and you didn’t do mylar balloons without something else because if a woman got something from a flower store, she wanted flowers, dammit, not just a couple balloons, no matter how pretty they were. And you’d better have the item delivered to the woman’s office and not her home, because apparently half the fun was the envy of your friends and enemies. Also they delivered to offices before four thirty, but at home it could be as late as seven or eight at night, and by that point it looked like you’d done it the last minute, even if you hadn’t. He knew all of that and still managed to land himself in deep shit about every other Valentine’s Day. If you couldn’t decide what to get a lady for Valentine’s Day, then you didn’t know her well enough to be celebrating it with her anyway. And he never did seem to know or understand women. 

He was well out of that. Hadn’t had to worry about it for two years now. Two years without a girlfriend on Valentine’s Day. Only that worried him, just a little, too. In the back of his mind, he was uneasy. Was he losing it? Couldn’t attract a woman the way he had in his younger years? Shouldn’t he make the effort to have somebody in his life?

Sadly, he shook his head. The truth was, he didn’t feel like going out and finding somebody just so he could have a relationship. A sex life. Let’s face it, he had terrible luck with women. The ones he was attracted to tended to be really bad news, and the ones he wasn’t attracted to were the ones interested in *him.*

Stupid holiday. Ought to be replaced. 

He should get up and cook something. But why? Sandburg probably had a date for tonight. Sandburg always had a date for Valentine’s Day, some romantic dinner with a cute little thing with huge eyes and huge....

Um. Well. Anyway, why bother with dinner. He’d find something in the fridge later. There were those homemade tortillas in there from Mrs. Lujan. Wrapped around anything at all, they tasted good. Move out the leftovers. Right.

But he still didn’t get up, until he heard something strange in the hall. Rustling. Wheels. 

Thunk?

Clink?

He went and looked out. The glass of the peephole made everything look strange, but it seemed safe enough so he opened the door. Two women stood there, in white overalls with blue and red lettering across the front. Liberty Plumbing. Lynn. Liberty Plumbing. Jeanette. Between them was a big dolly holding a huge carton.

“May I help you?” he asked very politely.

“307. We’re supposed to deliver and install a new hot water heater,” Lynn said.

“Here?” Ellison looked up and down the hall as if searching for the real destination. 

“That’s the address. 307. Right.” Lynn nodded firmly.

“Sorry we couldn’t get here earlier. It turned out to be a really busy day. But the guy who ordered this told us where to get the key in case no one was home and said any time was fine.” While she spoke, Jeanette was maneuvering the big box into the loft. “Where’s your existing heater?”

Silently, Jim pointed to the little closet to one side of the bathroom door. It had its own little room. “Valentine’s Day is busy for plumbers?” he asked.

“Sure. Lots of people want to put in hot tubs today, as a surprise for later in the evening. It’s really popular. We’ll need to turn the water off. Lynn, you go do that with him while I check it out.”

“I didn’t order a hot water heater.”

“The order says Sandburg. That you?” Lynn asked as she followed him. 

“No.”

“He lives here?” she stopped, wanting confirmation before she went any further.

“Yeah. Yes, he does.”

She nodded. She let him turn off the water. He heard all the pipes make distressed sounds. He thought of making one himself. Why hadn’t he showered as soon as he came home? Now it would be hours before he could have hot water. 

He decided not to hover over them. After all, he could monitor their progress through his hearing. He went over and turned on the TV. 

So.

Sandburg had ordered a hot water heater. Sure, you were supposed to replace them at regular intervals, especially if the water in your area was hard. The things rusted out, made a terrible mess. You were supposed to replace them before that. It said so right on the side. When was theirs due? Some of them only had a warranty for five years. Seven. Ten. A new heater had been put in when he moved into the place. So maybe it was time. And they were always having to keep an eye on the hot water. This new one was bigger, he had noticed. About twice as big. 

Sandburg had it delivered on Valentine’s Day.

A really big hot water heater.

On Valentine’s Day. 

Enough hot water for two.

Uh.

At the same time?

Was Sandburg trying to tell him something?

Oh, god, shit, was Sandburg trying to tell him something?

A present. Sandburg had gotten him a new hot water heater. For Valentine’s Day. A really expensive present, when you thought about it. And terribly practical. Much better than roses and chocolate. Could use it all year. Years. It was a guy kind of present.

Only Sandburg would send women plumbers with a guy sort of present.

Maybe it wasn’t a present.

Maybe Sandburg had just gotten tired of being blamed when there was no hot water, and decided to do something about it. No problem, right? New water heater. Sandburg was finally on his feet financially after a few months of drawing detective’s pay. But Ellison still didn’t let him pay rent. Let him pay for most of the groceries instead. It all came out even, right?

Or not. Maybe this was just an even-it-up thing. Like the new toilet seat Sandburg had bought last month. 

Yeah.

But what if it wasn’t.

You know, he told himself, if Sandburg *is* trying to sweep you off you feet with a grand gesture here, and it doesn’t work, it is going to be damned awkward around here tonight. And tomorrow. What if Sandburg had finally got up the nerve to say something and....well, he couldn’t shoot the kid down. Wouldn’t. This rejection had to be done with some finesse. He could do finesse for once. Right?

So he tried to think of the right words to say that would say thanks for the hot water heater, but nicely decline anything else that was on offer. Chief, nice of you to think of it, but...I really an flattered but I think you have the wrong idea....you know I like you, Sandburg, but I don’t like you that way.

Uh huh. 

So why was he thinking of Blair Sandburg. Naked. In the shower. The water turning his brown curls to dark waves and...Sandburg. All wet. Looking at him through the steam.

Warm.

Looking at him?

“You are insane,” he told himself. Out loud. So he would know it was true. 

What kind of a guy thought about--that? In connection with his best friend. Well, he knew what kind of guy they were talking about here. He’d just never fit the definition.

Well. Except for that time in Peru. But he wasn’t really himself then and it was....different then, and....

And he was imagining the feel of wet skin under his fingers, and the way a drop of water could look silver in the light. 

Blair in the water.

Blair.

He needed to pee. But the water was off. He gritted his teeth.

Fortunately for the carpet, or at least his dignity, the women were fast and efficient. Soon the pipes were groaning and gurgling as the water flowed again. Liberty Plumbers even cleaned up after themselves and left the loft almost up to his own standards. They told him it would be an hour before the water would be hot, gave him a number to call if there were any problems and left, taking to old heater with them. 

Jim being Jim, he went to look at the new heater. It filled up a lot more of the space than the old one. No obvious drips were developing. The thing was wrapped for energy conservation and had some sort of green sticker mentioning that the parts could be recycled. A totally Sandburg sort of a water heater.

But was it a valentine? A message? That was one of the old meanings of the word. Sandburg had told him that once. Valentine. A message.

He closed the door on the water heater and thought about Sandburg. About him buying something for the loft. A big thing. Without consulting Ellison first.

So he must really think of it as home. He was investing in it, you could say.

Ellison blinked. And went to the bathroom and flushed the toilet. That worked. So he used it, and washed his hands in still-cold water and thought about dinner. And made a plan. He’d eat the leftover potato salad in the fridge and wait for Sandburg to some home. If Sandburg had a date, then the water heater was just a water heater. If Sandburg didn’t have a date, then he was going to....

You probably couldn’t get a table at a good restaurant tonight. 

He should cook. Something nice. He went and looked in the fridge. Nothing much. Looked in the freezer. Foil wrapped packages. Nothing appealed. 

Needed....shrimp. Dipped in red sauce and fed one at a time. Peeled grapes. That sort of thing. Not Tofu Surprise Casserole. Seeing as how there were no shrimp or grapes, and that casserole had been there quite a few weeks and wasn’t going to go away, the most practical thing to do was to heat it up. He got it out, but left it on the counter. He looked at the clock.

So he opened the fridge door, got out the potato salad and ate it while standing at the balcony door, looking out over the city. Carefully rinsed out the bowl and put it in the dishwasher. Went and brushed his teeth. 

Seven.

Seven thirty.

****

Well, fuck. Just fuck.

The Sandburg luck. Arrive at Farrah’s ten minutes early, one perfect rose in hand. Knock on the door–and find it answered by Farrah’s ex-husband. Who had apparently been doing a great job with a Valentine’s Day reconciliation. And behind him was Farrah. She wore a silk robe. And a stricken guilty look. 

There is nothing in the world like the piercing awareness that you have been completely forgotten. 

So he offered the rose and a few glib words and got the hell out of there. It didn’t help that he’d had his own doubts about the evening. After all, he had only met her the week before, and it was more mutual loneliness that had caused them to plan a romantic evening than any real attraction. A drop of need-to-get-laid combined with a simple need for human companionship. Besides, he hadn’t wanted to stay home that evening. Especially if Jim had a date.

Competitive? Him?

Well. More than he used to be. The cop environment fostered it. But mostly it was a case of not really wanting to watch Jim go off for the evening with one of those tall leggy women he seemed to attract. He didn’t really like Jim’s girlfriends much. Even the ones who weren’t criminals or crazy.

He even knew why. Easy. Blair Sandburg evidently had a desire to be the center of the universe. Or at least, of the Ellison solar system. Didn’t want any other planets orbiting his sun. Not that it was his sun. He was one of those wandering planetoids like Pluto that got sucked into the gravitational pull, and now he was in orbit. A nice close orbit. He was the planet closest to the sun now, he knew it. Closer than the relatives or Simon or planets from the past. You’d think it would be enough.

It had to be enough, of course. And one of these days a dainty little Venus of a planet would knock him on his Uranus and that’s about how far out his orbit would be, and she would just slide into that spot next to the sun that he had been keeping warm and.... 

And it was time to rein in his imagination and go home. Jim probably wouldn’t even be there. Might as well pick up a pizza and settle in for the night. So he went and stood in line for thirty minutes to get his Vegetarian Delight. Which came, in honor of the holiday, in the shape of a heart. 

Cute. 

He tried to remember if they had any beer on hand. Didn’t matter. No need to drown his sorrows in beer. He looked down at the bottle of wine on the seat beside him. Medium priced red, which had come wrapped in gold and red foil. Guess he should be glad he didn’t have that in his hand when he went up to Farrah’s door, or she and her ex would probably have that, too. So. Pizza and wine. Why not.

It was dark when he pulled into his usual parking spot. Jim’s truck was in. Well, there was enough pizza for two. Carefully he maneuvered to the elevator, wine in one hand, pizza in the other, and pushed the button with his elbow. Look at that. The elevator was working. A holiday miracle. He changed his grip on the pizza box, which was holding the heat pretty well and burning his fingers. He hoped Jim heard him and opened the door, otherwise he was going to have to put it all down and dig for his keys.

The door opened. “Jim! Thanks, man!” He elbowed his way in, heading for the table so he could dump the pizza and wine. Jim closed and locked the door, not saying anything. “You get the plates, I’ll go wash my hands,” Sandburg said. He went to the bathroom, pissed, washed his hands, and noticed the water seemed a little tepid. Which reminded him of the water heater he had ordered clear back in January. There’d been a sale, with installation included in the really great price, and he’d sort of impulse-bought the damn thing. Which he regretted because after he’d had to cancel two delivery dates, the company rep had rather frostily informed him that the thing would be delivered when they had an opening, and would he please leave a key with a neighbor.

But here it was a whole month later...yeah, the original delivery date had been January 14th, so it was a whole month. Time to nag the company a bit, and he didn’t look forward to it. He was thinking about that as he came out of the bathroom and he didn’t realize Ellison was outside the door until he plowed right into the hard chest. Stinging nose, the breath knocked out of him, and he put his hands out for balance and found himself folded into heavily muscled arms. His own arms went around Jim’s waist, sort of, for balance.

He’d have said something, in protest maybe, if he hadn’t lost the use of his lips. Jim seemed to be using them. Kissing him. Devouring him. 

The important detail, Sandburg realized a great deal later, was the way he reacted. Did he protest? Wiggle away? Smack the big guy upside the head? No. No, apparently his first reaction was to kiss back with an equal, if not greater, enthusiasm. He kissed his male roomie so hard and long they staggered into the wall when lack of oxygen drove them apart. Jim’s arms were still around him. 

“I love you, too,” Jim said, and went back to kissing him. At some point they must have turned a little, because Sandburg’s back was to the wall and Jim was plastered down his front and you know, that hard thing pressing into his stomach should have really worried him, and it didn’t. Which sort of worried him. He turned his head, tearing their lips apart. James Ellison actually whimpered. Sexy sound. 

“Jim. Jim, this is too fast! Man, listen to me. Too fast!”

Jim shook his head and said, “Oh. Yeah. Too soon. Water. Right. Okay. I guess we should...eat the pizza. Before it gets cold.”

Sandburg nodded. “Yeah. The pizza. A little wine. And then we can talk. We should talk. Because, see...I...it’s like this....”

“You’ve never been with a man before either?” 

There was that. “Yeah. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” And wasn’t that the truth. The news seemed to affect Ellison in a good way. The guy seemed happy about it. Reassured.

“We can learn about it together,” Ellison was saying, pulling him along to the table. He went to work on the wine, easing the cork out in record time, while Sandburg got glasses and plates out. Pretty soon they were sitting there devouring the pizza heart and things seemed pretty much back to normal. 

Or it did until Ellison said, “I really liked the present.”

The what?

“I...uh, wasn’t sure....” Sandburg floundered.

“We’ll never run out of hot water again.”

“So it came all right? The water heater?” Comes the dawn. The water heater had arrived today. His first feeling was relief that he didn’t have to nag the company. His second reaction....

“At least you didn’t call it a hot water heater. Yeah, came earlier this evening.”

What kind of guy got a water heater and made the mistake of thinking it was a Valentine’s gift?

The kind of guy who wanted a water heater. Or one who measured the value of a gift by the pound? Or one who unconsciously wanted his best friend and interpreted the most casual gesture as one that had deep meaning.

But does he want me, or does he just want the Guide? Does he want Blair, or is he willing to settle for the guy who was already in his life, living in his loft? 

“Carolyn never got me a water heater,” Ellison said, as if that might mean something. Although come to think of it, the guy liked hanging around hardware stores. Maybe a water heater was the way to his heart. And points south.

“She probably never thought of it,” Sandburg said, which was undoubtedly true. He’d only thought of it because he was tired of hearing certain people bitch if the hot water didn’t last long enough for two showers. 

“She used to get me men’s fragrances and things like that. I didn’t like them.” Hated them.

“Your senses were probably sensitive to strong smells even then.”

“And all the stuff she got me was for me, but actually it was for her, really. She got the smells she liked to smell, you know? Even if it wasn’t me.”

“Look, I hate to burst your bubble here, but getting a new water heater isn’t exactly altruistic, you know. I expected to get some benefit from it, too. Like, daily? Maybe Carolyn was expecting to get some benefit from you smelling nice.” Sandburg took a bite of his pizza and chewed. 

“It’s not the same. She was covering up the real me. Plus I had to take her out for a fancy dinner. All her presents were additions to me. Something added.” 

It almost made sense. So her message was that he needed improving and maybe it wasn’t enough to be himself? Or maybe her message was the additions he needed were the ones she wanted to make, not the ones he felt he needed. But how was that different from a water heater? If you looked at that the wrong way, the heater could even be an insult. Implying you needed to take more baths. The man insisted on seeing things his own way. Okay. Fine. 

“And you’re okay with...with...” Sandburg made a helpless gesture because he didn’t really have a word for what was happening.

“Are you?”

“I don’t know. When did you say they got that water heater installed?”

“It’s been almost two hours.” 

“Want to try it out?” Sandburg was trying not to sound too hopeful.

“Uh. Together?” 

“Well, if we did it one after the other, we would find out how long the hot water lasts.” 

“But if we showered together, what would we find out?” Ellison asked with a smile.

Sandburg smiled back. 

Ellison swallowed, hard. 

“The hell with the shower.” Ellison paused and then suggested, “We can shower afterward, right?” he asked hopefully.

“We can shower any time you want,” Sandburg assured him.

“From now on?”

Sandburg blinked, and was pretty sure they were no longer really talking about showers. “Oh, yeah,” he decided. “From now on.”

“Good.”

Oh, yeah. 

“Happy Water Heater Day,” Sandburg said as they started up the steps.


End file.
